Nothing has changed, i feel like every post i make is more miserable then the last. Its back to the same bullshit.

I tried cutting myself again but it doesnt feel the same anymore. I dont know what to do to feel real at this point, and without weed my anxiety makes everything worse. Joined a new rp group to rp Carol. I need that outlit, even though sometimes it feels like rping carol is like shes infesting me. Me and her are so similar yet such opposites. I want to be wild and free and fuck all like her. But I can't. I care too fucking much about these people who don't give a shit about me.

You hold me and tell me its okay, but I dont believe it. I dont see anything in your eyes anymore. There is a constant fog to the world when I'm not online. When I'm not high.

I dont even want to be typing anything. I feel like i should, but I just dont have it in me to do much of anything anymore.

I finally got ahold of something sharp enough! I can't beleive i'm excited. I used to cut myself when I was younger hoping someone would see and help me. But no one cared. Now the stinging from each cut makes me feel electric! Like I know i'm alive. When I saw the blood It wasl ike a uerka moment! its like Itmade sense aagan. Is it Jealousy that eats meup? Theyall talk andmake friends. If i dont insert myself. I'm not there. If I dont do anythign no one asks where I've went. I'm less then the after thought. I dont feel like i'm so different from everyone else. My job is tryign to fire me just like I thought. I havetogoto a temp agency. But I'd rather drag this razor across my neck and stain their seats with my blood. They aren't worth the pain I want to give to this fuckign world.

ITs my bitch of an aunt who deserves it. Who fucking did this to me. Myhhead is spinning. its loud and they talk over eachother. they can't get it straight. The clones dont know, but i do. I feel it in my stomach. There is no prison for what you did to me. I talked about those 4-5 years you just pretended I wasn't real. No one fucking cared. No one really gave a shit that you actually fucking shunned me. We lived int he same house. We saw eachother everyday and you acted like I was a stranger. You told me ytou'd given up on me. When id never wanted you to support me atall. I wanted my parents. You all lied and scared me into thinking I could never go back to them. And then you kept me. You kept me and told me you didnt even want me. You trapped me in that room for months. I had no one to talk to. To see. it was just you and your disapointment. Telling me that it was a normal teenage thing to eat an entire bottle ibuprophen. Telling me if i'd wanted to kill myself there was better fuckign ways. God awful cunt.

Tired of this. Tired of my entire life being you on repeat.

all i've ever wanted was your death.

The disease grips them all by their throats, and the burning in my arm tells me im here and its happening. tgey keeptalkingo ver one another and it make s my eyes go cross. Like theyre filling my head with cotton.

Sometimes I feel like I should elaborate more. Give some better explaination to whats going on in my head. But i'm not sure how to actually conceptualize the daydreams unless I've written them out. Recently I learned how to break my own thumb and I keep thinking about doing it it. I like my thumbs though.

I come here to post and I see the view count go up and it hurts as much as the synapses in my brain go 'yippe yay' someones giving a shit and looking at the hell i'm writing. Silent viewers as I slowly fold in on myself. Do you enjoy watching me rot?

the code really lookig lie spaghtti this post. WOw! okay- i had sohroom edibles and i guess there was a lot in it. Its been emotionally wild unti about 15 minutes ago.

After cutting into my arm a few times i've felt nothing its both awful as it is amazing. Its cold the cuts are cold, they dont feel. I' mtepmted to do it again. cause it hasn't been much of naything since. I was hoping i could feel it a little longer. i want mroe edibles. I want to be so numb i cant feel it when i slit my neck.

Fake clarity

Put my two weeks in, spontaneously asked people to join a tabletop. It might be fun. But I think i'd rather end it here soon. I set myself up for things, not even disapointment. just disaster. Forced to wait for it to eventually all crumble down like it always does. I removed a bunch from my instagram. Been exisiting in some roleplay.

But nothing really satisfies.

I still feel like what i'm looking for is too much for people.

But what does anything matter. This fake clarity has only made things worse. I just want to die. The world doesn't need me and I don't need this world.

've manaegd to make myself the third wheel. In roleplay. Wild thing to feel. Somtimes i dont hthink they even know whats going on. Een though i'm watching them form a conncection in rp and in chat. And itfeels like i'm inserting myself in eventho we were supposed to be a trio. And bringign it up just makes peole feel bad. I know the worldhatesme, and I hate the world. Biut i dont always hat the people. even if inside i know they're slowly coming to hate me.

Its notgtheir fault. Thats jsut how it happens. I give it a few moremonths before thye get bored of me.

we joked about camping, but i would love to. I'd takr the opportunity to just walk the fuck out.

sometimes it seems like someoens watching me, but i think thats me getting over hopefull.

Sometimes I can reread my last posts, sometimes i can't. And i dont need to read it back to remember what it says.

...its not really a point. as much as a statement.

I should say i'm self aware. that i know I sound fucking winey bitch mad talk vomited onto a barely coded page that I can copy and paste so i dont have to fuckin remember-

But all that makes it an excuse right? If i try to explain?

How do I explain to people the disease?

All I have is questions. And no one has proper answers. Explaining it makes me feel really crazy and that should imply that i'm wrong and i'm just spewing what fears me right? But when its clearly applied to the day to day of my life i see it. I see how much it eats them. Their judgement is my confinement.

BUTI STILL WANT TO TRY. I STIL LTRY EVERY FUCKING DAY TO GIVE THEM WHAT I CAN. AND THEN I OVER TALK, I FORGET SOMETHING. BUT THEY REMEMBER. Its beyond my fucking skull how they bitter i percieve them all. Why can't i just not see that? How could I possible know from hundreds of miles that theyre slowly growing to hate me? I cant- I shouldnt. I know its just in my head. Its overthinking right?

....

its unfortunate the lack of motive I have.

I wantto create and share, be appreciated like everyone else. I want people to fucking see me! I want to believe I'm real too.

I'm trying so hard to be a good friend to people who seem like they care.

sometimes i'm pretty sure i'm self sabotaging just being me.

Testing lines

Things seem to be progressing okay. But if i say too much then i'll jinx myself. I think all n all i've been okay. Unbelievably horny for no reason. But Whatever. I'll take horny over miserable.

PMS

Maybe its been with time, or maybe i'm over thinking during pms (probably that). But after goign to snoop to make sure the person whod hurt me a year ago was okay still, and seeing interact with their shit ex/bff.... I know I cut things off between us. Iknow for the last year i've been venting here about how much you hurt me. But why did you reach out to them? Why am I still the one left in the dust when all i did was continue with my life. I was hyperfixated on other things, i was distracted. I tried to tell you. I tried to explain it as best I could why we hadn't really talked or rp'd. There was my share of mistakes. But I never once treated you the way they did. I didn't blow you up on social media for it. We're all different people, we react differently... I just want to know why I was the one who had to reach out to you. When its clear you reached out to the ones who hurt you before?

Today I have been watching. Watching the discord names light up and turn off. Watch them read my words and not reply. I read it all. I see the effort to talk to eevryone else. The effort you all put to talk to eachother. I'm always told the people who care are the ones who reach out and talk. But when i do they have nothing. And they never reach back.

I'm this close to wiping my friends list entirely except for a few people. Everyday I wallow in the fact I am not included, and that including myself receives nothing in reply. What ammount of effort should I give you if you can't return it? And yet i'm still going to try. I'm still going to reach out.

I never should have gotten this tattoo.

For once, its not me

Well i gave it a time span of a few months, and i was right. But- it wasn't even my fault. As far as i'm aware so far it is not my fault. which is both a freeing thing, but being aware of whats going on is making me really pissed about how my other mutual is being treated.

It has been beyond a day. But the clones have been nearly all silent and it has been disconcerting. For all the silence i yearn for. A mass purging was not my expectations today. I was not expecting the intensity of my detatchment from the situation. I was flip flopping from not feelign and pure rage. ??? itching to riot once all the clones had beee purged no ddoubt. How does this work? why is it harder to typewhen i tal about her? I am positive i do not have DID. My clones ar ejust me- But talkign about them pushes oen closer to more 'front' then others?

another thing to chew on I guess.

I admitted a lot today i havent even told my husband and i'm not sure if it helped or not. Maybe its the detachment from the previous problem. But I just. I dunno.

Everyday I care less. Which could be a good thing.

I feel too much all the time everyday.

jesus christ one of my neighbors smoke alarms is going off and im wondering if we'll burn down or die in our sleep (its been going for 2hrs)

Sobering reality, crushing anxiety

Been sober nearly 3 days now, and my anxiety has come to grab me by the throat. After a near week of the clones being passive, theyv'e begun their scramble once more. My admittance to others about things past has them confused. But in their lack of chatter i was able to push through and say things i hadn't. And now I wake up wondering how far i've sunk. How much is really going on behind the scenes. I see their P/A messages on their statuses. And I can't know for certain if they mean me, so i have to assume they do. But i'm jsut trying my best. My best has never ever been enough for people.

Horny, unbeliebably horny

For the last 3 months i've just been horny man, so fuckign horny. And maybe its helped, maybe it hasn't I cant tell. It rots my brain. But at least i feel satisfied after i finish- well after the 3rd or fourth time.

Sorta feel better. At least i dont have to think.

still hurts

Opening twitter and seeing art of a character that belongs to a former mutual really hit differently. probably cause i've been drinking. I will never get closure for it yknow? It was a short friendship. And they didnt' really seem to care about me. But i was still attached, i wanted to have friends. Seeing them post and act like things hadnt happeend, and they didnt act how they did. It makes me physcially sick.

12/1/24 The end of my peace

after several months of feeling numb, okayish, my depression has come back to rear its ugly head. The self doubts that hadnt gone away are loud screamings in my ears. My headaches return and the stress eats me up.

even in those months all i could think of was how excited I am to kill myself when I turn 30.

1:11 make a wish

Fragile is the ego i tell myself i dont have. Denial thick in my throat when i tell myself things arent true. My body responds to my refusal. Insisting in the opposite. I crave to be around another person so much I suffocate and collapse inwards when i'm alone. A leech.

Its nearly new years, and I keep dreaming of dying

Last night i'd had a clear dream. And I wasnt sure if i wanted to vocalize it. But I've decided I do. I've had a few dreams this month where I've died though its less of being murdered and more of knowing i'm fading out of existence by the end. Drowning was one. Last night I dreamt a man was attacking a group of people outside a shitty motel. It looked a little like my hometown. That light grey blue just before sunset when its cloudy over. He was in a sweaty white shirt and a green flannel. I moved infront of these people when he stabs forward. I feel it press in just below my ribs, I gasp for air feeling suddenly very cold. When I look to his face, his mouth is in this twisted grimace of a smile. As if he cant quite believe it either. Then he pulls back, i watch the blade go with and I double over as he brings it into my stomach again. Then again. In short hard stabs 6 times. My eyes fluttering open as my dream self falls to their knees. And then I'm awake, and I feel cold.

I'm back from my trip to the river walk early, it was fine all n all. didn't feel like a vacation, didnt get to see much of what i wanted to. Didn't drink enough to get sick.

Theres a feeling in me saying these are going to change again soon. I'm bracing myself to be alone again. Its getting easier to pretend it doesnt hurt when I see her online. Its like a deep numbing behind my ribs. Pressing down on the feeling. I know it will never go away.

Is it too much to ask, Jack?

I know my husband loves me, but sometimes i'm just so not into the horny love. Especially when its consistently over several days. Its not repulsion, i'm just like 'yeah okay man, I get it.' He messages me from work and i'm all excited because fuck yes someone talking to me- And then its just how bad he wants me rn. :| Alright. Cool. Hows your day? Is that all your thinking about? So I ask him to real it in, and- I feel like shit for it. Its clear he's upset. But I also just want to not feel sexualized everytime i talk to him. Can't we just talk normally?

And then when I'm dreaming, its just been Jack. I chase him around my dream scape, i know he wants to tell me something. I see his grey hair over the the crowds, a little smirk when I can't catch up. He stopped me from progressing somewhere, and i've been following after since. He leads me down into a warehouse, but hust when i get there I'm suddenly at the top again. And I'm chasing him back down.

I'm scared that when I catch him and he finally talks to me, he's not going to call me by the name I wish he would.

Need to get a job soon so i can buy a gun. Only a couple more years till i'm 30. Once I have the gun I think i'll feel a lot better about things. The only nightmare will be if he finds it and asks me about it.

If i see therapy before, I'm wondering if theyre just going to put me straight to a ward or rehab. Worried the Texas Phsychologists are going to really fuck me over. Its hard to explain that I fantasize of hurting others and myself, but I dont want to act on it. That i'm afraid of it.

If I do I'm scared i'll never stop. And I'll love it.

Nothing feels as miserable as typing out a vent only to delete it because you can't send it. They tell me they wanna hear from me when i'm dealing with this, but I'm not there when they need me so- I dunno.. All I have anymore is this website. I can't put my thoughts anywhere else to feel secure. I dont mind people reading these things if i dont have to talk about it. But I do want to talk about it. I'm just.. only talking to myself. Theres no one else to talk to. I dont want to tell my 'friends' about everything because theyre all going through their own shit. Theyshouldn't have to deal with mine and theirs. They already live in their own hells. I shouldn't make it hotter.

My dads flying to visit me tomorrow, i'm dreading. Somedays I hate him for never coming back for me. And others i'm ripped with guilt for how much money I owe him, and how much it hurts that he tries to provide for me NOW instead of when I had needed him as a kid.

Last night i'd wondered about how fast it would be if i'd just slit my wrists and jumped off the third floor balcony. its not quite far enough to kill me from just the jump. I'd need something to ensure i'd die when no one comes looking. But theres a kid living on the first floor, and I dont wanna die outside his window.

I want to die somewhere where I wont ruin anyones memory of the place. I want to be alone, prefferably no one will find my body. I dont want people looking for whats left of me. I'll delete all my accounts the night before, get my note together. I'll leave only my website. I'll find a nice quiet place to listen to music one last time, daydream of that sweet nothingness i've wanted my whole life. And then i'll fire. And finally i'll be fucking free.

My only reget is I wont have gotten to kill that woman with my own hands. I wish I could wring her saggy neck. She ruined my life for me, and I wish I could make her pay for it.